


The New/Old Guy

by Chick4Chick2



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But they're not really enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jaime and Sansa are coaches on a show like The Voice, May/December Relationship, Pop Star Sansa, Rock Star Jaime, Singing Competition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chick4Chick2/pseuds/Chick4Chick2
Summary: Jaime's a huge rock star...or was a few years ago.  Reluctantly, he agrees to be a coach for a season on the singing competitionStar Westeros.  No one warned him about Pop Princess Sansa Stark.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Sansa Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 89





	The New/Old Guy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mynameisnoneya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Getting the Band Together](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914111) by [mynameisnoneya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/pseuds/mynameisnoneya). 



> This is just a little Christmas gift to my Jaimsa-loving friend. It's inspired by one of her stories (Getting the Band Back Together) which is _not_ a Jaimsa story but is very good so I've linked it :) Merry Christmas, my dear!

If you’d asked Jaime Lannister even five years ago if he could ever see himself being one of the quartet of coaches on _Star Westeros_ , he’d have laughed in your face. 

The rock god (aka former lead singer and guitarist from Kingslayer) was far too cool to coach a team of pop star wannabes in a competition against even more pop star wannabes. Some assholes had dared to call them a hair metal boy band back in the day but seriously, fuck them. They _rocked_.

Well…he _was_ too cool for any of that until the alimony and child support due every month kept going up and the royalties from his power ballad-filled albums were no longer enough to cover them. That and Tyrion, his so-called brilliant brother who had also been his manager, had allowed his on-again/off-again girlfriend Shae and his driver Bronn _(his driver for fuck’s sake!)_ to pick Jaime’s bank account clean when he wasn’t looking. 

So, here he was on _Star Westeros_ , signing autographs between takes and mugging for the audience, giving them his patented megawatt smile, while listening to some of the most godawful renditions of already godawful songs. 

When his new manager Brienne had lined the gig up for him, she’d told him that the coaches had some friendly rivalries as they put together their teams, hoping to cultivate the winner of the competition, but it was mostly all in good fun. 

_"Aren't I a little old for that crowd, Brienne?"_

_"People love you, Mr. Lannister. Kingslayer merch is still as popular as ever with the kids. They'll adore seeing one of their favorites back in the spotlight, too."_

And really how hard could it be? Listen to some young hopefuls sing, give them some pointers and collect a fat paycheck thanks to people’s nostalgia for one of their old rock-n-roll faves. Easy money. Even easier than belting out his greatest hits on a revival tour would be. 

However, he’d not counted on Pop Princess Sansa Stark being part of the panel.

* * *

  
_“As I live and breathe…he really showed.”_

_“Who?”_

_“Jaime Fucking Lannister.”_

_“Who?”_

Sansa had turned towards her co-panelist, Jon Snow, to give him her full attention. The singer/songwriter and former front man for the Indie band The Watchers had joined the show last season. Sansa had threatened to walk when one of the old fogey producers had been talking about using that Old Lounge Lizard Petyr Baelish to fill in. She’d suggested that a handsome young artist might draw more viewers and they’d agreed to give Jon a shot over Baelish. It had certainly worked. Ratings had been higher than ever last year. 

_“‘Who? Who?’ Are you an owl?”_ Jon had asked with a smirk. He also happened to be her cousin _(long story_ ) so she’d given him a good shove for that. _“Our new co-star, Sansa. The lead singer of Kingslayer.”_

_"Oh, the new guy, huh?"_

_"Yeah, the new guy."_

_“What’s Kingslayer?”_

Jon’s mouth had opened and closed a few times. She’d had a feeling if this was a text conversation she’d be receiving a string of random letters and exclamation marks to communicate his disbelief. _“Kingslayer! You know…only the most awesome rock band EVER?!”_

_“It sounds familiar…”_

_“You’ve got to know some of their songs! ‘Hear Me Roar?’ ‘The Smiling Knight?’ ‘My Bloody Sword?’”_

She’d scrunched up her nose. _“Why would I listen to a song about a bloody sword? Like, ewww.”_

Jon had raked his hands through his hair and sighed, _“I can’t believe you’ve not heard of Jaime Lannister. He’s a legend…a veritable icon is in our midst."_

She'd looked over her shoulder and gave him a glance. _"He looks old."_

_"Old? Well...yeah, I guess he's a little...Oh, shit! Here he comes, here he comes. Be cool.”_

_“Oh, wait. Was he in that hair metal band that Dad used to make fun of you and Robb for listening to so loud when you were teens? And isn't he around Dad's age?”_

Jon had scoffed at her.

And someone had scoffed from behind her…

* * *

  
_So, yeah. That’s how we met. It’s only been downhill from there._

It was a shame really. Sansa hadn’t meant to make a poor first impression. She intensely disliked being disliked, too. She just hadn’t remembered the band or the songs but then she’d turned around that fateful day and really _seen_ him. 

Holy shit, Jaime Lannister was hot! That chiseled jaw, cut figure and golden hair didn't remotely remind her of her father. A daddy maybe...not a dad. 

She’d seen his face in the entertainment news a few times but not made the connection between the blond Adonis (the middle years were being damn good to him) and the guy Jon and Robb had followed the career of so closely when they were teens.

He’d smiled and shook her hand that day (while her typically broody cousin was busy fangirling all over himself) but she could tell he’d overheard her remarks and the smile hadn’t reached his emerald green eyes. 

Since then, there’d been some definite tension on set…as in a whole helluva lot of tension. 

Last season, her and Jon had bickered a good deal which the audience had loved. They’d been busy pushing for their selected singers to win it all with the same enthusiasm they’d brought to family game night back when they were kids (you’d have to attend a Stark Family round of Scrabble to understand the seriousness of that statement maybe).

Their other two co-panelists, Grey Worm, the rap artist from Essos, and Missandei another pop singer like herself (and also Grey Worm’s not-so-secret girlfriend) had exchanged enough heart eyes during shows to balance out her and Jon’s professional tension perfectly (that had only devolved into childish whining a time or two.) And at the end of the day, Jon was family. There was never any question they had each other’s back when it mattered. 

But Missandei was touring this year and a new panelist had been needed, someone to hopefully keep the ratings of the country’s most-watched singing competition as high as last year. Enter Jaime Lannister.

Oh, the ratings had been high alright. If the audience had enjoyed the sibling-esque bickering of her and Jon last season, they’d gobbled up the eyerolls, verbal gauntlets and outright jabs her and Jaime were taking at each other by this point. 

It was unfortunate that they couldn’t get along. 

During the taping of the first episode for instance, she’d not managed to contain herself when the host had been showing the audience stock photos of the judges to introduce them and she’d giggled like a loon at the old photo of Jaime from his band’s glory days (complete with impossibly teased hair, head band, metal stud-covered jean jacket and spandex pants). It had been a subsequent shame that he’d felt inclined to make a snide remark about Pop Tarts who thought they could act when a photo had appeared from Sansa’s earliest days in the industry ( _way back in 2012!_ ) when she’d been cast to appear in _Sweet Winter Hearts_ (a teeny-bopper nightmare of a bubbly pop song laden show). 

He'd started calling her Princess Sansa in a sneering way and she'd only labeled him the New Guy...and occasionally, the New/Old Guy. He'd never once called her by her name and the same went on her end. 

Things had started growing heated when they’d been making their bids for contestants to claim for their teams. She’d won Podrick Payne away from him. He had a great voice and was sure to win if Jeyne Poole didn’t who she’d also managed to get to join her team. And while Jaime had lured Loras Tyrell away from her, it appeared his talent might be lacking for the long-distance haul despite his looks and charm. He’d scored poorly with audiences during 80s night and she’d even noticed Jaime grinding his teeth during Loras’ Moonwalk Montage. 

Now as the season finale was drawing near, there was this constant battle of wills on set which made the show a bigger success than ever but less fun than it used to be for her. She disliked being disliked. Maybe she should give it up next season, tell the producers she wanted to get back in the studio and work on a new album. 

Jon had asked her privately yesterday if the thing with Jaime was bothering her and she’d denied it, not wanting her rather protective cousin to start anything with his teenage hero over some silly quips and pointed words. 

But, truthfully? All that snipping and snapping and ridiculous tension was bothering her but not in the way Jon meant. It made her…well, fuck. It was making her so hot. Half the time she wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap his smug grin off his face or sit on it more. It was so unfair. 

Actually, she was pretty tired of the cookie-cutter formula pop her agent was always pushing her towards. Maybe Jon would write her a song or they could corroborate on something? Something that the likes of Jaime Lannister wouldn’t sneer at. Who was she kidding? It’d be nice to work on something the serious music critics didn’t sneer at, too. A lot of them called her a pretty voice and face, a pretty little songbird. But she’d written music in the past and she could play the piano. There just wasn’t a ton of piano in the sort of music she’d recorded at this point. Maybe that could change. 

That was a question for later. For now, she just needed to finish this season.

And then tonight happened…

“Ah, that’s a shame, Jeyne,” Jaime said whilst shooting Sansa a barely noticeable but very obvious (to her) smug grin. “I’m afraid the voters have spoken.”

How had this happened?! Jeyne wasn’t supposed to get voted off this week! The week before the finale! She was sure it’d be Loras! Now, she just had Pod and Jaime still had Loras. Viewers could be so superficial and while Pod was cute, Loras was ridiculously handsome…like his coach. Poor Grey Worm was stuck with Marillion (who was talented but a complete lech) and Jon had sweet Samwell Tarly, an angel but the dark horse candidate for certain based on voting so far. 

Jeyne nodded numbly at everyone’s sympathies and well wishes and Sansa’s heart bled for her. She went up on stage to comfort her after the taping was done and wound up crying, too. She promised Jeyne between hiccups that she’d help her get another shot at fame. This industry could be monstrous to young women and she wanted to help a girl close in age to herself out.

Jaime was watching them together but Sansa ignored him. It was better than sticking out her tongue at him. That would be far too juvenile.

“Hey, Sans? You want to go grab a milkshake?” Jon asked. “Jeyne’s welcome, too.” 

He would remember milkshakes. Her parents had always said ice cream could cure many ills and milkshakes had been Sansa’s favorite indulgence after a disappointment for a long time. She agreed at once, just hoping she wouldn’t start crying again over his kindness.

“I like milkshakes,” Sam offered tentatively. 

“You’d be very welcome, Sam,” Sansa assured him. 

Soon, everyone was chatting about going for a treat, Loras, Sam, Jeyne and Pod. (Not Marillion, thank goodness). Even Grey Worm shrugged and said he’d go. It was fine. She could stick close to Jon and maybe work up the courage to run her idea by him. It’d be safe and comfortable and…

“I could go for something sweet about now.”

She froze and started scrambling for an excuse to back out. She did not want to spend the evening with Jaime Lannister.

_Yes, you do…_

_No, I don’t! At least, not at the ice cream parlor, I don’t!_

But everyone was grabbing jackets and headed towards the door and she was whisked away with the rest. She’d try and keep at least ten feet between herself and Jaime the whole time. 

* * *

  
_So, funny story…There once was a guy named Jaime who kind of got a kick out of acting like an asshole upon occasion. Until one day, it bit him in the ass…really hard._

He knew she hadn’t meant any harm that first day they’d met. God, she _was_ young enough to be his kid. So what if she’d not heard of him or Kingslayer? And he was older. The New/Old Guy...

_You and your fucking ego._

Oh, he had an ego. He always had. He’d tried to tone it down as he’d got older. And it’d taken it’s share of hits, both during his heyday and also more recently. 

And then, she’d laughed at his old photo (which was pretty dated to say the least) and he’d made his remark ( _hacking on a teenager’s acting ability-real classy, Jaime_ ) and things had only spiraled from there.

 _“Audiences love you guys,_ ” one producer had said.

 _“They love the banter,”_ another chimed in. 

_“Look at this! Someone tweeted ‘All this tension on Star Westeros! Who’s going to win might be the biggest question but when are Jaime and Sansa gonna fuck is the 2nd biggest.’”_

Sansa had flushed and her cousin’s jaw had been clenched so hard Jaime had been waiting to hear his teeth crack. For himself, he’d pretended not to hear them. It was better that way and the producers could be such douchbags sometimes anyway. _And she’d never, ever want me._

It got his blood up though, quarreling with her. It stirred him in a way that very little else did these days. Princess Sansa. He knew it rubbed her the wrong way but couldn't help it. 

Fuck, she was bright and beautiful, witty and winsome. She was talented, too. They’d had a Reversal Night where the coaches performed and their protégés got to critique them. There was nothing to critique when it came to Sansa’s performance. Her voice was angelic. She needed some better music maybe but even her bubblegum pop was snappy and addictive in its way. 

There’d been a few times when they’d been sparring when he’d seen this flash of vulnerability in her eyes and he’d wondered if he was pushing things too much. He’d never been good at reigning things in when he’d been in the thick of a fight, even a fight as silly as who’s singer was going first. 

But then she’d cried tonight over poor Jeyne getting the boot and something had shifted inside him. She was a talented young woman in an industry that loved chewing up and spitting out people on a daily basis, no matter their age.

“What flavor did you want?” he asked as he joined her at the counter. 

She jumped, surprised to find him beside her, no doubt. She’d been trying to keep her distance from him since they’d arrived. He probably should’ve just gone home instead of inflicting his company on her or this young crowd. He really had been an ass this past week and, combined with her singer getting tossed, he could see why she wanted some space when it came to him. 

“Why are you asking?” 

“I’m buying.”

“Jon’s buying.”

But Jon was engrossed in some discussion about music with Sam. Those two were quite a pair and there’d been jokes about a blossoming bromance in some of the online tweets and articles. 

“I’m sure he’ll buy you the next one if you want. May I buy you this one?”

She looked suspicious. “Why?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice. It’s a trial for me, I assure you, but I am trying.”

He got a glimmer of a smile before the narrowed eyes returned. “The princess likes vanilla. Got anything to say about that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the flavor vanilla, Sansa Stark.”

She bit her lip and smiled a little wider. It was the first time he'd called her by her name. “Good. But I want mint chocolate chip.”

“My favorite, too.”

So, he ordered milkshakes like a kid and they wound up finding a seat beside each other outside. They talked. It was lovely really. For the first time, he was having a pleasant conversation with Sansa. And yes, watching her sip her milkshake and make all these delicious little sounds as she relished it and lick the whipped cream off her straw had lots of very dirty notions running through his brain. 

A shadow loomed over them…Jon. _Figures you’d show up._ He didn’t seem like such a fan anymore since Jaime had been busy arguing with his cousin so much of the season.

But he grinned and pulled out a flask. “I know we’ve had shakes together since we were kids but we’re not kids anymore, Sans.”

She laughed and held up her half-empty shake as her cousin gave her a dash of liquor. He offered it to Jaime next who took it. And then, Jon Snow made a most welcome exit.   
She hummed as she took another sip and gave him very playful smile. “So, what are your plans after you finish that milkshake, Jaime Lannister?”

He smiled back at her. It was the first time she'd called him Jaime.

* * *

  
“Would you please stop bitching about the goddamn song?” Jaime snarled.

“No! I’ll bitch all I want! I told you Pod was singing that! How could you let Loras choose it?!” she hissed right back. "You never listen!"

“I was listening!”

He rubbed his chin guiltily. He _had_ been listening…half-heartedly. When Sansa was in his bed, his listening skills were more attuned to her moans and whimpers than anything else.

Yeah, they’d got on alright after milkshakes the other night.

Her blue eyes were narrowed dangerously and he’d better fess up.

“I forgot, okay? And do you think I can really control what the hell Loras does? He thinks he knows it all!”

 _“‘It’s not my fault! I forgot!’_ That’s your lame ass excuse?” she hurled right back.

The door to his trailer crashed open as Sansa forcefully pushed past him to get inside.

 _“ARGH!!!”_ he roared in frustration.

“Argh right back at you,” she said icily.

“It’s just a song.”

“It’s their last performance!” 

“Come on, Sansa…” 

He raked his hands through his golden hair and that charged tension in the air turned on a dime. This spat was leading to another lovely session of making up. _If only we’d spent the whole season this way._

“Jaime…”

“Fuck…” 

In an instant, their hands were busy touching each other’s faces and sliding across shoulders, down arms and elsewhere. Mouths were hungrily devouring lips and tongues while they swallowed one another’s moans.

“It’s almost time to head to the set,” Sansa said breathily while Jaime cupped her tits through her blouse and ground his erection against her thigh, his hot breath tickling her ear. “Shit…wait,” she cried as Jaime tried to lift her skirt, fully intent on getting his hand down her panties. She was aching for him to put his hands on her he knew but she also hated surrendering so easily. “You’re not getting what you want yet,” she scolded as she batted his busy hands away.

Their fellow cast and crew might get quite a show if they didn’t close the door soon. They were likely to hear enough of it as it was.

She kicked the door closed behind her and threw the latch before she pushed him backwards, yanking off his t-shirt as he worked to unbutton her blouse. The back of Jaime’s head met the wall with a loud whack. He whimpered but kept kissing her. Her hand came up to soothe the place, softly caressing to take the sting out.

Sansa stepped out of her heels as he trailed kisses down her throat. Her chest heaved in anticipation as he got closer to her breasts. She wanted this, wanted his mouth on her tits and his hand down her panties. She wanted him to make her cum right here. He could read her like a book when they were like this.

She roughly pulled away. “You don’t get what you want yet. As soon as I’m done fucking you, you’re getting the silent treatment for a week at least if you don’t...” 

“I’ll make Loras change the song, alright?”

“Well…that was easy.”

“I’m easy for you.”

“But won’t Loras struggle to find another song before the show and…”

He cut her off with a passionate kiss. “You think I’m all that worried about Loras and the show at the moment. Mr. Wonderful can find something to sing, I’m sure.” 

“But…”

“Not buts…just your ass.” 

With that, he lifted her up and carried her over to the small table, helping her shimmy out of her panties. 

“Now, give me a show, love.”

She grinned giddily. He was delightfully naughty and she like that. She lifted her skirt on the edge of the table and spread her legs and then the folds of her pussy with two fingers. He moaned pitifully in response but nodded for her to keep going. His eyes were glued to her glistening mound and she crooked a finger on her other hand to beckon him over.

“Better get over here and make me forget that you were trying to sabotage Poor Pod.”

“Don’t mention Poor Pod to me again while we’re here, yeah?”

He then knelt before her with his eyes shining, a mixture of sweetness and wickedness. They were very late for the show.

* * *

  
Jaime awoke in his bed with Sansa next to him a few mornings later. The show was over for the season and Samwell Tarly had been declared the winner last night on _Star Westeros._ He smiled to himself, admittedly kind of pleased for the big guy. 

He pushed a wave of auburn hair back from her face as she slept and his lips brushed the shell of her ear. They’d bickered all through the lead-up to the final performances despite the fact he’d just ate her out an hour beforehand in his trailer and then she’d sucked his cock. 

But during the performances, they’d exchanged more than one tender look. _This is almost it,_ he’d thought then. This crazy ride was almost over and he had no way of knowing if he’d be asked back next season or if Sansa was coming back for that matter.

And then that was it. Sam had won and Pod had been in 2nd Place. Both young men would get their shot but Sam got the heftier payday. Loras would have to accept his 3rd Place finish with good grace (he was bound to catch some label’s eye) and fuck Marillion.

The cast party afterwards had been as wild as any he’d known in his concert days and after he and Sansa had made their excuses, they’d come back to his and screwed each other’s brains out. 

Fighting and fucking, fucking and fighting. It’d been an amazing end to the run. 

He wanted more though. 

Would she?

He shifted slightly before kissing her shoulder softly. He wondered if her ass was as sore as his knees from last night. _Getting old,_ he grimly chuckled to himself. It was worth it to watch Sansa melt under his touch and tongue again and again.

Last night, he’d bent her over the back of his couch no sooner than they were through the door so he could fuck her from behind. He caressed her lovely ass tenderly now after spanking it while she moaned and writhed and jutted her ass back against his cock, begging him for more.

 _“Harder, Jaime,”_ she’d entreated. _“Fuck me hard and fast, lover.”_

Jaime’s cock twitched with interest at the memory alone.

“Hey,” she said sweetly into his neck before her head popped up and he looked into those blue eyes he adored.

“Hey,” he replied. There’d been this vibe last night, this ‘what are we?’ vibe he’d avoided. He should say something, tell her he wanted to keep seeing her, that he wanted more than sex with her. “I’m starved. You hungry?”

“Yeah, got anything to eat?”

“No, guess we’ll have to head out.”

Her smile faded slightly. “Yeah.” Did she think he wanted her to leave?

She rolled out of bed and walked naked through his bedroom, searching for her clothes. Her nipples pebbled from her chilly morning air. He should ask her to get back in bed. He should tell her something, too.

“I’m going home to visit my parents for a few days…now that the show’s done.”

“Oh…right.”

The show was done. Were they? 

Only one way to find out.

“After you see your folks, have you got any plans?”

She plaited her hair and threw on her skirt and top. “I don’t know for certain…” She started toying with the end of her braid. “I talked to Jon and we might do something together.” 

“You mean music?”

“Of course, music.”

“That sounds great.” 

She nodded but looked uncertain. Fuck, he was awful at this. He needed to do better.

Before she could start looking for her shoes, he jumped out of bed and came to stand in front of her. “Sansa, I know what we have has been…”

“You don’t have to say it. I get it.” Did she? She looked ready to cry. “It was fun while it lasted, right?”

“That’s not what I was going to say.” She sniffled and he’d better start talking. “Sansa, I was going to say that even though the show’s done, I hope we’re not. I know I’m older than you and I know we started off pretty combative at times in the name of the competition. I’ve said some stupid shit I regret.”

“I have, too.” 

“I’m sorry for that, Sansa. I’m sorry for anything I said that hurt your feelings. You’re very talented and a wonderful, caring person.”

“Thank you for that. You’re really great, too, Jaime.”

A tear slid down her cheek so he kissed it and then kissed her lips gently. “I’m not great at relationships, Exhibit A and B-my two failed marriages. But I want to try with you.”

“I’d like to try with you, too.” 

It was a start. Both smiling, they clasped hands. “So can we go grab some breakfast and then spend the rest of the day together?”

“The rest of the day?” she smirked.

“We can do anything you like. We can go to a show or see a film. We can come back here and just talk or…”

“Well, if we’re going to be busy doing such coupley things, I think I know how I want to start my day.”

“How’s that?”

She gave him a light shove and he sat back on the bed with a grin. He pulled her towards him for a kiss. Sansa climbed into his lap, straddling him. Her hands found his hair and he gripped her hips tightly.

He helped her get naked again and she started kissing his neck, gliding her fingernails along his skin, making him shiver. His hands started caressing her ass and softly stroking up and down her back. 

“Hey, Jaime?”

“Yeah.”

“Make me cum.”

One hand moved from her hips and he trailed a finger up her thigh. He kissed her lips and slid his tongue in her mouth. Sansa’s breath caught in anticipation he thought and she moaned with his kiss. Then, she trembled when he entered her with a finger. His thumb brushed her clit as a second finger joined the first inside of her. Sansa’s hips began to rock, riding his hand.

“So fucking wet, love,” he whispered in her ear as he started nuzzling her neck. “I want to watch you ride my cock after you ride my hand. Will you?”

“Yes…fuck, yes,” she panted as his fingers kept frigging her. “Faster, Jaime,” she said.

His fingers moved in and out swiftly, his thumb stroked her clit deftly. She jutted her breasts forward, offering him a nipple to suck. He bent his head and lathed at her breasts in turn. 

“ _Ohhh_ …Jaime,” she cried. She writhed in his lap like a woman possessed. Her head fell back as he curled his fingers insider her just so.

“Come on, love,” he urged her moving his lips off her nipple for a moment before capturing the next one.

“I’m cumming!” she shouted. “Oh, I’m… _unngh!”_

Her hips continued bucking until he felt the final spasms of her orgasm finish. He slipped his fingers out and licked them cleaned while she watched with blown pupils. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was a beautiful mess. 

As soon as he removed his fingers from his mouth, she kissed him hungrily with her swollen, red lips. His cock was still hard as a rock and weeping now. He was breathing heavily.

“Sansa…”

“Lay back,” she purred. 

She stroked his cock before centering herself, sinking down one excruciatingly delectable centimeter at a time. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, Sansa Stark,” he joked.

“Me?” she asked coquettishly. “Would I do that to you?”

“I think you like teasing me,” he said huskily.

“Is that a complaint?”

“No, not at all.”

And when she finally sank all the way down, taking him all the way in with his balls nestled up against her ass, she started rocking and moaning his name.

_If she is the death of me…what a way to go._

Despite their hunger pangs, they didn’t leave his place for another hour. 

If anyone had asked him five years ago if he’d be one of the celebrity coaches on Star Westeros or be currently falling in love with a pop princess, he’d have said they were crazy. And he had never been more pleased to look back at his 5-years-ago self and say, _‘You were wrong.’_


End file.
